The Hook Up
by drdit92
Summary: The words may not be there, but inspiration can be found in many nooks and crannies. It's time to explore a new one. Two shot set before season one. Little to no plot. Happy #CastleFanFicMonday everyone!
1. Chapter 1

**Two shot with basically no plot. Based loosely on a book I browsed on Kindle Unlimited called _Booty Call_ (yes. Seriously). I blame Mobazan for gently pushing me to publish this. It was close to never seeing the light of day...**

* * *

"Paige just called, they're waiting downstairs," his daughter whirls past, all motion and movement. A quick peck on his cheek serves as her goodbye as she dances past him, roller duffel pulled in her wake. She pauses momentarily by the entry, one hand already on the knob.

"The hotel info is on the fridge, and I'll keep my cell phone on." Her blue eyes pierce him where he stands, lost in the expanse between his office and the main living area. "You'll be ok, Dad?"

His heart lurches, love for this sensitive, beautiful soul bubbling up anew, washing through his veins with a tumult. He's raised a great kid, but she's growing up. Doesn't need him like she used to. And it's a wonderful, terrifying thing.

"I'll be fine, Alexis. Have fun in Boston." He somehow suppresses any quavers in his voice, and she rewards his effort with an electric grin.

"I will, Dad. I'll call and text, don't worry."

He manages a half wave, which she misses as she gambols out the door. It shuts with a loud clang, and he's locked alone in the prison he created for himself. The echo reverberates in his head long after the sound has disappeared from the loft, buzzing through him and fueling the restlessness that's been building for months.

Sighing, he paces into the kitchen, then immediately turns and wanders back to his office. Standing in the middle of the room, he faces the desk where his warden sits: a matte black rectangle one side, a keyboard and blank Word document on the other. He stands, waiting. Waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Nothing changes in this wearied routine. Once again the silence mocks him and he slowly shuffles into his room and collapses on the bed.

It's dark, the afternoon sun blocked by expensive drapery that insulates him from the rest of the world, cocooned in his luxurious cell. Groaning, he beats his fist on the mattress. His life is falling apart.

He'd been so sure, months ago, when he killed off Derrick Storm in what would be the last book of the series. He'd been bored, admittedly. Bored and certain that something new and better was just around the corner. He just had to go find it.

Ignoring the outrage of his publisher (and ex-wife) had been easy, at the time. Now, with the launch of the book imminent and press leaks speculating about what he'd do next, the weight of it all was about to crush him. He'd not found inspiration anywhere he'd looked, and the mounting strain had driven any idle interests far away.

He's capable of more than Storm—much more. He can feel it; taste it at times. But months have passed and his restlessness hasn't led to anything productive.

It lurks, stalking him through the night. Through nightmares with blaring headlines announcing his failure, to others with empty bank accounts and a life without his daughter. He can ignore it during the day—if his mother or daughter is home to distract him. But now, an empty loft surrounds him. His sentence is 4 days of loneliness, thanks to his mother's trip to the Hamptons and Alexis's invitation to accompany her best friend's family.

Jumping back to his feet, he strides back to the office with jaw clenched and brows furrowed. Pulling out the chair with a sharp jerk, he drops to the seat and let's muscle memory take over, fingers poised above the QWERTY keyboard and head bowed, an adept waiting for the maestro to wave his baton so he might begin.

The baton wave never materializes, and like a trickle of molasses his fingers slide off the keyboard, coming to rest in his lap. Shoulders slumped, he creaks the chair in a careful arc until he can stand. So many expectations, all unfulfilled by his impotence.

A low burn flickers to light in his chest.

The words may not be there, but inspiration can be found in many nooks and crannies.

It's time to explore a new one.

* * *

He goes through the motion of checking his contact list first, though he knows very well that no one on that list will satisfy. Not tonight. It lets him pretend that he'd made an effort to avoid doing what he really wants to do.

What he's going to do.

"Allison?" Talking out loud is surely a sign of something, but he just doesn't care anymore. "She had great legs, but a laugh like a donkey." Flicking past the braying lawyer, his eyes light up at the next entry. "Carolina, oh yes."

His cock jumps, remembering the incredible sex with the professional cheerleader. Followed quickly by the deflating memory of her new boyfriend. Her outside linebacker new boyfriend. He wasn't desperate enough to risk bodily injury. Besides, he suddenly remembered talking to Carolina. She'd not been much of a conversationalist.

He rapidly rejects the rest, for both reasonable and unreasonable conditions. No one he already knows…or has known…is apt to satiate him tonight. He needs something new.

Someone new.

Taking a deep breath, he almost hums in anticipation as he scrolls through his apps until he finds it. He'd tried it once before, but Alexis had called him while he'd been chatting with his potential partner and he'd had to bail.

His pulse pounds as he looks at the tiny pics of women near him looking for the same thing: a release, a good time. A temporary connection with a stranger. An undamming of his words. The pressure is building within again, and if he can't write, then this is the only way to find relief. And freedom.

He ignores all the redheads—they remind him far too much of his first ex to be an option. A beautiful brunette with long curly hair catches his eye. She looks intelligent, though it's hard to tell from a thumbnail pic. He's at half-mast already, just looking at her picture. Pressing the "Hook Up" icon next to her name, he shivers in anticipation of hearing her voice.

The sultry sound that answers stiffens him the rest of the way. "Hello, handsome."

"Hi there," he returns, settling back against the couch and putting his feet up. "How's it going?"

"Well," she pouts, "I'm having a rough time right now." He loves the teasing note in her voice—it's making his heart pound faster and his cock stiffer.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What's the problem?"

"I'm dripping wet, horny for a big, strong man. But I'm all alone. I don't suppose you could take care of me, could you?"

"It seems we both have a problem, then. You see, I'm sitting here with a cock as stiff as iron and no pussy in sight to take care of me." He unzips his pants and takes his straining prick out, stroking it slowly.

"Sounds like we could do each other a favor, then," she coos. "Want to meet up? I could come to your place."

As if. No way in hell is he letting a stranger into his home. Still, he wants this woman. Needs her. And there are many ways to meet that don't involve his loft.

"I'd prefer a hotel. Somewhere close to both of us."

"You got money?" Her voice has changed, the sultriness gone as a curt, no nonsense tone replaces it. It's as though the tap pumping out scalding water had suddenly turned cold. He stops stroking, focusing on her words.

"I got enough to live on. You got nice tits? Since we're asking and all."

She laughs. "Yeah, honey. I got the perkiest set money can buy. They're fucking fantastic."

"I'd love to find out. What are you offering?"

"The night of your life, big boy. I'll let you do anything you want to me. For two grand."

He sits straight up, feeling like an icy bucket of water had been poured into his lap. "What?"

"Two grand, though if you're big enough to satisfy me I'll knock it down to one and a half."

"I don't pay for sex, sweetheart. Find some other sucker."

He hangs up, disappointed after getting so worked up. Standing, he splashes a generous portion of his best scotch into a glass and knocks it back. Okay, so that hadn't gone so well. Sitting down again, his head lolls back against the cushion as the burn of the alcohol sizzles through his veins. Let's face it: that was a fucking Titanic, iceberg and all. He'd ground against it and sunk. But it still didn't change the facts. He needs a release, and it _has_ to be someone new.

Picking up the phone again, he flicks through some more pics. Faster and faster as nothing appeals, until he almost scrolls past. Holy crap. If this is really her picture, she's beautiful.

No, that's not right: she's fucking breathtaking.

"Don't get any ideas," he cautions his cock. He really is losing it if he's having conversations with Ricky Junior now. "She's probably already accepted a hook up. Woman like that won't last on here."

Ricky Junior pays no attention. He's all for hitting chat and getting the woman in bed. Rick stares at her picture for another moment, then hits the button. Expecting nothing, he nearly chokes when the call is answered immediately.

"Hello?" Her voice is hesitant, unsure. She sounds like she's ready to hang up before he's even said a word. Total opposite of the previous conversation. Which is not such a bad thing.

Tamping down the nervous energy zinging through his body, he takes a deep breath and blows it out. Time for the master angler to go to work. This beautiful fish will be in his net before she knows what happened.

"Hi," he rumbles. It's a fine line to sound friendly but not overeager. "How are you tonight?"

There's a pause and he finds he's holding his breath. His heartbeat speeds up as he waits for her to say something…anything. He's not had to work this hard to get what he wants for a long, long time.

"I, uh—I'm okay, I guess." He hears her sigh. "You know, I'm not really sure what I'm doing here. I've never used this app before."

He gives a slight chuckle. "Me either. Guess I was a little bored. I was looking through the pics and saw yours and…well, I just wanted to talk to you. Can't really explain it."

"You mean—you've never hooked up on this app before?" The doubt in her voice is absolutely charming. It's clear she's still very unsure about this situation. It makes him burn ever hotter to meet her.

"No. I talked to someone on it, but…well, I don't know if I should tell you what happened."

A sharp intake of breath comes through the phone. "What? Tell me."

"I dunno," he huffs, "you might think less of me."

"I don't even know you. What do you have to lose?"

She's interested—or at least she's not hung up on him, so he decides to see if he can reel her in a bit. "Wellll, to be honest? She scared me."

There's a giggle from the other end and he lets himself relax a bit. "She scared you? How could she scare you?"

He lets out a poof of air and continues to spin his reel. "She came on way too strong, you know? Like I was just some bit of fresh meat. It just—just didn't feel right. I'm Rick, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You said you didn't know me. Well, now you do. I'm Rick. Nice to talk to you tonight."

There's a pause, and for a sick second he's sure she's off the line. His grin when she answers would rival the Cheshire Cat.

"I'm Kate. Nice to talk to you, Rick."

"So, what made you decide to try this out tonight, Kate?"

She sighs, but it's like she's settling in for a long talk. He sits back and puts his feet back up on the table in front of the sofa. "It was something my friend said. She's the one who put this app on my phone in the first place. I'd never heard of it."

"Yeah? What'd she say?"

There's a long pause and a distinct grumble. "I'm kind of a workaholic. She said I needed to have some fun, and since I absolutely refuse to let her set me up anymore, she said I should try this."

"She sounds like a wise woman." His voice is deep, channeling gravitas from the national newsmen. He hears her laugh again. It's one of the most charming sounds he's ever heard.

"She is. Wise. Well, sometimes. She's a doctor."

"You should always listen to your doctor."

"Maybe. I still haven't decided if she was right about this."

"What will it take to convince you? 'Cause I'm a pretty convincing guy."

"For one thing, why are you on here tonight, Rick?" There's a note of anxiety in her voice, and his heart gives a lurch. This is it: the moment where it all hinges in the balance.

"I'm lonely." It's a stark confession, and way more real than he'd intended to be. Perhaps her anxiety has bled into him. "I—I've not been in a real relationship since my divorce four years ago. I've got work issues of my own, and it just seems like everyone wants something from me but no one sees that I'm starting to crumble under the pressure. So, I thought that for one night…for one night, I'd let myself forget. Just let go and be with someone who doesn't know me. That I don't owe anything to. I can just be myself."

She's silent, like she's waiting for him to ask. Maybe she's too new to this to be the initiator. That's ok—he has no problem helping her along. "Can you do that for me, Kate? Make me forget?"

The pause is so long, he actually takes his phone off his shoulder to check that they're still connected. He almost misses her reply in the process.

"I can."


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping off the elevator, the corridor stretches into the distance in front of her. Wooden legs propel her forward, past monolith after monolith until she finally reaches the one whose numbers match that he'd texted her thirty minutes ago.

A pale hand rises into her vision as she reaches to knock on the door. Arrested in the act, she stares at her fist as it visibly shakes. What the hell is she doing? She doesn't know this man. And yet, here she stands. Ready to knock on a hotel door, enter, and have sex with a complete stranger.

Dropping her hand, she pivots and begins pacing the long hall. She'd blame Lanie if asked—she _had_ been the one to put the app on her phone, after all. But she can't lie to herself. Lanie's an excuse.

She's here because of her own failures.

The ten year anniversary hadn't exactly snuck up on her—she thinks about her mother every day, after all. But the stark reminder that it's been a decade with no progress with the case had twisted something within her. Each month since she'd felt a pressure mounting.

Nothing relieved it. She'd punished herself by working longer, harder, faster. She fell into bed exhausted each night, only to lie there gritting her teeth as the litany of her deficiencies tolled through her head.

She's close to a breaking point. Casual sex won't fix her life—she has no illusions on that front—but the release _might_ give her some time.

Lanie had tried setting her up. Three memorable disasters later—topped by a man who checked in with his _mommy_ every half hour—and even her friend had admitted that she was out of ideas.

Save for one: the Hook Up app.

And Kate cannot deny that the idea of someone completely anonymous is very appealing. No complications with work. No expectations of a relationship that she can't meet. It's the perfect solution for where she is in her life currently. Which is why she'd opened the account that Lanie had made for her earlier tonight. Why she'd answered the first call she'd received. Why she'd agreed to meet the man, whose friendly chatter over the phone had somehow relaxed her. Made her think this was a great plan.

Right up until the moment where it's all about to become real.

 _Really_ real.

But, if she chickens out, she's still stuck where she's already been. Huffing out a deep breath, she whips out her phone and sends a quick text to Lanie, letting her know where she is in case something goes dramatically off the rails. Straightening her shoulders, she eyes the door. She'd told this Rick earlier that she'd help him forget his problems.

In the process, she plans to forget hers as well.

* * *

A sharp knock on the door snaps his head up from where it'd been resting in his hands. He skips to the door, but manages to stop before flinging it open and just grabbing her. He'd seen her pacing, through the peephole. It won't do to send her running before he's even kissed her.

He takes a deep breath and a welcoming smile erupts when he opens the door to her. God, she's beautiful. Short, almost spiky, brown hair coupled with penetrating hazel eyes. She's wearing a smart trench coat that gapes open to show tight fitting jeans paired with a deep red blouse that complements her coloring. He feels his cock twitch at the sight. He wants this woman, badly.

"You must be Kate. I'm Rick. Come in, come in." He stands aside to let her pass. For a brief moment she just stands there and he feels his stomach tighten. She gives him a searching look, then releases a pent up sigh and walks into the room.

Closing the door, he decides not to put on the chain. He wants her to feel as though she has a way out and clanging the security locks in place won't help matters. Taking another deep breath, he relaxes his muscles from top to bottom before turning to face her. She's staring at the bed, tension radiating from her.

"May I take your coat?"

She starts, then looks at him with a sharp glance. "Oh, um, yeah. Here," she hands it to him after shrugging out of it with an unconscious grace that does nothing to keep his arousal in check.

"Listen, Kate, I know you have to be pretty nervous about this…situation," he tries for a casual tone while hanging her coat in the closet. "I am too, to be honest. I just want to reassure you we won't do anything that you don't want to. Why don't you have a seat," he motions to the small settee placed against one wall, "I've got a very nice 2008 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou on ice. Would you like a glass?"

"Yes, please," is her faint reply.

"Cheers," he taps her glass after handing it to her. He's rewarded with an eye roll for his cheekiness, but it's followed in short order by a moan of pleasure as she takes her first sip of the wine. His glass shakes violently at the noise as he crushes the glass in his grip.

He can't wait to hear her moan like that when she's beneath him.

"Do you like it?" he sits next to her on the settee, careful not to crowd her.

Her eyes are shut, savoring the flavors. "Yes. Very much."

"It's one of my favorites. Can you make out the fruits?"

Her eyes pop open and she gives him a searching look before taking another sip. "Um, that is so good. It tastes like blackberries. And something else…"

"Well done. Yes, oak and boysenberries too."

They both take a few more sips in silence, and his heart is thumping so loudly he's afraid she'll hear and be even more nervous. Tipping his glass back, he gulps a few more times. Which is a travesty—a crime, really—as this wine is meant to be savored, not swallowed whole.

"What now?" her words break into his reverie, and a lightness fills his chest as he sees that she's now sitting back, turned slightly into him.

"You know what I said to you on the phone, Kate." She nods. "I'm looking to forget for a while. But it doesn't have to be anything more than the two of us sitting here, enjoying a terrific glass of wine together."

She arches an eyebrow at him. "Really? If I told you that I'd changed my mind—that I want to leave now—you'd have no problem? You'd let me go, just like that?"

"Yes." He makes his word firm, eyes locked on hers. She nods, a slow graceful arc through the air and he's filled with the need to trace his lips along that beautiful jaw.

"Ok." She stands, and his heart plummets. He can't believe she's leaving. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head back against the couch. What a waste of a hotel room.

"Aren't you coming?"

"What?" Snapping his eyes open, he sees her standing next to the bed, shoes already kicked off. Jumping up, he just stares at her as she regards him with another raised eyebrow. He loves her expressions. Even as relative strangers, he's been able to read her face so far. He can't wait to see her with a glow of passion shining at him. "I thought you were leaving."

She tilts her head to one side, and he's undone by her once more. "I'm not leaving. I need this, too. Just wanted to hear what you'd say if I changed my mind."

He takes a step towards her. "You were testing me?"

"I guess," she shrugs.

He closes in, looming over her now that she's out of her heels. "You won't regret this."

She's silent, but her eyes challenge him to prove it. Unable to resist her anymore, he lowers his lips to hers and finally tastes her.

He's quite certain he won't regret anything, either.

* * *

The kiss is gentle, and nothing about this is happening the way she'd expected. His lips are intoxicating, tasting of the wine and the promise of more to come. He pulls back and looks at her, blue eyes darkening with desire.

"Are you sure about this?"

She reaches for his shirt in answer, unbuttoning the top buttons before his hand grips hers. "There's no rush, Kate. We've got all night."

His sheer bulk dwarfs her smaller frame, and damn if that doesn't make her racing heart beat even faster. She feels the heat rising off her skin as he leans down to kiss her again.

His lips caress hers, a faint echo of what she'd seen in his eyes. Pressing back, she runs her tongue along the seam of his mouth, teasing and tantalizing until with a groan he releases her hands and pulls her tight against him as his tongue plunders.

She can feel his heart thumping through his chest when they finally part, panting. His mouth moves to her jaw, and she tilts her head back to give him better access. She can't help the moan that escapes when he finishes tracing her jaw and drops to her neck.

Her blood is singing, rushing through every nook and cranny of her body. She's alive, crackling and tingling in ways she's never felt before. If this is how he makes her feel just by kissing her, she's not sure she'll survive the rest of the night.

But, oh, what a way to go.

His heavy arousal is obvious, even through their clothes. Hands tangled around his neck, she slips back far enough to retake his mouth. One of his hands slides up her ribs and brushes the underside of her breast.

Just that little touch sends an electric spark straight to her center. The heat builds, along with the throbbing need to be closer. She reaches down for him, impatient for all the barriers between them to be gone.

"Not yet," he stops her just as she's got his zipper open.

Kate frowns. "What do you mean?"

He smiles, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, "We're gonna do this my way, Kate. I'm gonna make you lose your mind."

He takes her hands in his and moves them to rest at her side. "Let me?" His voice breathes in her ear, breath scorching a path along her skin. She nods, unable to think, let alone speak, as his lips resume their exploration of her neck.

She'd pictured this encounter in her mind when they'd agreed to meet; imagined what it'd be like to meet a perfect stranger for the sole purpose of mutual satisfaction.

Her assumption had been that'd it be hot and fast. Two people needing release coming together in a quick coupling, then parting ways once their lust was slaked.

Clearly Rick has other ideas. His lips finish with her neck and he begins to unbutton her blouse, one button at a time. He thoroughly explores the newly revealed skin, his lips and fingertips leaving a burning trail across her chest as the throbbing in her core builds until she's lost in a heated haze.

Once he's reached the waistband of her jeans, he slips the sleeves of the blouse down her arms, as if unwrapping a fragile package. She's mesmerized by his eyes—deep, dark pools of blue that roam over her upper body, now only clad in the lacy bra she'd put on earlier.

He lifts his hands to her breasts and she watches them move towards her, nipples hardening in anticipation. She can feel moisture building, almost dripping from her core. She's never been this wet in her life while still mostly dressed.

His hands reach their goal, cupping her breasts while he leans in for another long kiss that leaves her gasping for air. When he's satisfied with her lips, he turns his attention to her breasts. His thumbs rub over her nipples in a gentle circle that nearly sends her to the floor as her legs buckle.

He steadies her by dropping one hand to her waist and pulling her into his bulk. She breathes in his musky scent as her pounding heart thumps against his hard chest.

"Lean back," he murmurs as he lowers her to the bed. Somehow he's managed to undo her bra, removing it with as much care as he had her blouse. He stretches out next to her side and shoots her a feral grin before licking his lips in slow, wet strokes as he stares greedily at her chest.

It's enough to send electric jolts shooting through her body. All of her senses are in overdrive, body straining towards his as his head moves closer and closer to her left breast.

The heat of his breath as he pauses just above her washes over her, all sparks now coaxed into a conflagration. She's about to spontaneously combust when his tongue licks over her nipple and she screams instead of bursting into flame.

White hot throbs rush through her with every swirl of his tongue, until she's writhing beneath his expert ministrations. She mewls in protest when his mouth leaves her breasts, only to gasp again as he slides his tongue like a magma trail flowing down to her waist.

She trembles when his fingers fumble with the fastenings to her jeans. He peels them off, standing up at the side of the bed to slip them off her feet. Giving her a long look, he reaches with deliberate slowness to slide her panties down and off.

Her legs spasm as he holds them closed. The ache between them is like nothing she's ever experienced before. "I'm gonna let go of you for a minute. Can you hold still?" She nods, hesitant. Unsure of what he's about to do and wanting nothing more than to pull him down onto and into her, she watches as he strips. Her mouth waters as the well-muscled physique she's felt through his clothes is finally revealed.

When he turns back to her, she nearly comes from the flood of desire that surges through her. His is a body that fits all of her fantasies. Taller than her, with breadth and bulk in all the right places.

And, oh, is he well endowed.

"Are you ready for this?" he drawls, trailing a finger up the outside of her nearest leg. The lazy path it traces up her calf takes her breath away. Nothing else exists outside of the two of them.

She can't think of the question.

His finger reaches her knee and moves inexorably higher.

Had there been a question?

"Remember, no moving," he growls, as he bends over and begins by caressing and kissing his way up her legs. He starts at her ankles, and initially keeps her legs pinned together, despite her moans of protest.

By the time he finally—finally!—pulls her thighs apart and starts exploring closer and closer to her dripping center she's throbbing with need.

"You're definitely ready for me, aren't you?" he rumbles as he approaches the top of her thigh.

"Not gonna—can't last," she pants, head and back arching off the bed as she tries to be still.

"I just need a little something to savor." His whispered words are almost incomprehensible over the rushing blood pounding through her ears. She feels him part her folds and tenses for the first contact, but when nothing happens she manages to peer down. He's lying between her legs, hands holding her apart. His eyes capture hers, hypnotizing her. His tongue flickers out, almost but not quite tasting her. She can feel her orgasm building, and he's not even touched her yet. He grins at her, a smirk that he's earned.

And then his tongue flickers out again, this time rasping up her clit in a slow lick that sends her heart rate skyrocketing as she forgets to breathe. Waves of pleasure wash through her as he slakes up and down a few more times until her world explodes in a white burst and she's carried away on the receding tide.

* * *

When she opens her eyes again, he's lying next to her stroking her hair from her face.

"Did you like that?"

"Wasn't it obvious?"

He chuckles. "Yeah, it was fairly obvious. But I'm disappointed."

She can do little more than raise one eyebrow, still spent from his earlier efforts.

"You didn't scream when you came."

"I didn't?" She has no idea what had happened and doesn't have the energy to even think about it.

"Nope. But I think we'll manage it this time."

"This time?"

"This time. You have no idea," he leans down and captures her lips again.

Oh, god. She thinks she might not make it if there's much more _this time_. Lanie will at least know where to find her body.

Her blood begins to boil again as he plays her expertly. It takes very little time before he has her moaning and panting for more. And _more._

Rolling on top of her, he positions his tip at her entrance. She's barely coherent, but manages to gasp, "Condom?"

"Already taken care of," he grins, then slowly pushes his way inside. "God, you're tight," he grits out, stilling for a second for her to stretch around him. She'd seen he was big, but this…this is more than she'd ever had before.

"You ok?"

She nods, and he slides back slowly as her walls flutter around him. She's already close, and as he strokes forward, filling her again. She's lost the ability to focus on anything but where they're connected, and the building pressure in her pelvis promises an explosion greater than anything she's experienced in the past.

Each stroke exceeds the last until there's nothing but the incredible feeling of him moving within her. She can hear her own keening moans in the distance as she nears her peak and it's all ready to erupt on the next unimaginable slow slide and, oh, she can't believe this is so amazing and wonderful and oh, god, it's going to be…

Nothing. He's stopped moving for some reason just before she came. Her eyes fly open to find him staring at her. He's buried within her, both of them gulping heaving breaths. She's confused, and a little annoyed and, yes, disappointed as she comes down from the near high he'd given her.

"What's the matter? I was almost there." Her voice is whiny even to her ears, but she was _almost there_. "Did you come already?" If that's the reason he's stopped, there's going to be a serious discussion—right after he finishes her.

"No."

No. No? "No? What the fuck?"

"Have you ever been edged before?"

"What? What are you talking about, and why are we having this discussion _right now_?"

He grins and shakes his head. "Trust me, you're gonna love it," and he leans down to kiss away her complaints before they can even leave her mouth.

After a few deep kisses, she's nearly forgotten the disappointment of a moment ago. When he starts moving his hips again she can't even remember there was anything ever besides their connection. Within two strokes she's even higher than she'd been before, and in the tiny remnant of her brain that isn't completely focused on how unbelievable this feels she knows he's driven her up onto a plane she didn't even know was possible.

The pressure is back, and now she's almost afraid that the resulting orgasm will be so powerful that she'll never be whole again. She can hear her own screaming, but there's nothing she can do about it. Every stroke is now like a throb of pure bliss that builds and builds, never completely stopping until she feels her whole pelvis ready to contract and explode like a supernova with the next thrust…

He stops. Again.

This time she knows what he's up to. And while she's nearly boneless, she's still _not come_ and thus has enough energy to be mad. Really mad. Really _really_ mad.

She hits him. In the shoulder: she doesn't want to hurt anything vital to her ultimate goal.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"What the actual fuck are you doing?"

"I told you. Edging." She must look quite angry and scary, as he starts babbling. "Orgasm control. It makes the final one like the most incredible orgasm you've ever had."

"It'd better. Cause if you keep building me up like this and _then_ nothing, I _will_ kill you."

He laughs, but it trails off when he sees that she's _not_ kidding. "Ok, I won't stop this time, Kate, but I'm telling you that you're gonna thank me once you remember who you are again."

She starts to make a pithy comment, but he chooses to one up her by thrusting once more. Her witty response ends up as a groan which soon changes to a moan and then she's completely undone as he drives her past even the last plane she'd reached. This…this is pure ecstasy as every molecule he slides past stands up and sings in a chorus of bliss that sends her spiraling into the sky. And as he continues to move she feels her response building to something so far beyond an eruption and she has no idea what to expect but, oh my god it feels so beyond good she doesn't even have words for it and as he adds yet another long thrust forward she can feel her walls wildly thrumming and fluttering and, holy crap this is _it_ and suddenly her core is _vibrating_ as if through their movements they've actually created electricity that's now being….oh, god it releases into her and she feels herself explode with a physical thump and everything just…disappears…as she soars off past the moon and the stars.

* * *

He still has a huge, stupid grin on his face when he stumbles home much, much later. Kate had been everything he'd wanted and then some. He'd been attracted to her picture—she was a beautiful woman, after all. But something about her voice, and then meeting her in person, had sent his lust for her into high gear.

He wasn't sure what it was—perhaps her initial reluctance? Most of the time he had no need to work to get a woman in bed. She'd been a challenge, the first he'd had in a long time. Maybe that was why they'd been so fiery in bed together. He's slept with his share of beautiful women. Had his share of terrific sex. But last night had been something else entirely.

For both of them.

He was tempted to ask for her real name and number, reluctant to leave this encounter as a one night stand. And he thinks she would have given them to him, as she'd been as blown away by their electric compatibility just as he had.

But, in the end he'd held his tongue. He'd gotten what he'd come for; so had she. No need to complicate matters with pathetic attempts to try and replicate this incredible night.

Likely they'd have failed miserably, and been left with regrets and acrimony.

No, it was better to keep this encounter a cherished memory. At least that's what he keeps telling himself every night as he lies awake reliving it all moment by magical moment.

After a week he's searching the Hook Up app for her picture again, but she's never online when he is. Maybe it was just a one-time thing for her.

By the end of two weeks he's kicking himself for not asking for her number and wondering if any woman alive besides her will ever satisfy him again.

At the end of the third week, he's too busy preparing for the book launch of his final Derrick Storm novel to think about her as much as he has been. Now it's just at night before he falls asleep and first thing when he wakes up.

Therefore, when she comes to arrest him at his own party, he vows then and there that he won't walk away from her this time. This time he'll do whatever it takes to get to know her—and to get her in his bed again.

The rest is, as they say, history.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading my very first and my very last attempt at smut. I'm convinced it's absolutely terrible, so I apologize if you read this expecting hot sex and instead got…well, whatever it is that I've managed.**

 **I also apologize for the length of time between finishing the fic. Real life walloped me. I had part of this done, and figured I could easily finish it between real life crises. I had no idea how hard it was to write a good sex scene, and finally gave up and just wrote an ok (I hope) sex scene so I could finish this story. Lesson learned.**


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